


Endurance

by LittleBrick



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7939093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleBrick/pseuds/LittleBrick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: The ages following the destruction of the Ring, from Sauron’s POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: Characters belong to J.R.R.Tolkien. Enjoy.

Prologue

When The Ring is destroyed, Sauron feels like a burden is lifted. He is free to roam the skies, to see all from above. He does not enjoy the sensation. He needs an anchor to maintain himself. He fades upwards, floating above the stars, and sees the border between the actual space surrounding the planet and The Void. His Master is there. He wonders what Nothingness feels like, when someone grabs him. He thinks it’s Melkor. The touch is certainly warm and rough enough. 

It is Namo Mandos, and he has come to claim a prisoner.


	2. Fourth Age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating may change, just not yeat. Depending how this will progress, the style might change as well. Different POV later. Also, everything in italics is Melkor.

And so it was, that at the outset of the Fourth Age, his Trial begins and ends with fastness. The process is a blur in his mind. They hold court at the Máhanaxar, and for him, all the Valar are present. _Such honor…_ Melkor whispers in his ear, as if his lips are glued to the side of his face. _Look Aule in the eye and smile, NOW!_ He doesn’t, of course. It’s the sort of thing Melkor would do. He has to be more subtle. He can’t afford to be anything but compliant.

 

The Judge speaks of his misdeeds with frightening accuracy, and Sauron cringes. They bring up things about him and his old master no one should know. Who betrayed him? Were there trails left he didn’t notice? Did they have proof? He will have time to sort it out later. He knew that omniscience was a misleading thing. Manwe would converse with his birds, Namo would interrogate the dead. Instant knowledge was something only Eru had, and sometimes Melkor questioned even that.

 

He tried to clear his thoughts. As long as he was not cast into the Void, he would find a solution. _Why not join me?_ Quiet, you!

 

In the end, he avoids expulsion from the World. Pity from Nienna, assurances and reassurances from Aule that he had once a good heart, worthy of salvation, and general consensus that he should be given a chance to repent, after his imprisonment. He is to spend one Age in the prison that is Mandos, in the same cellar his old Master inhabited. The Judge finds it amusing.

 

They slip a chain around his waist, hands, ankles and neck and he suddenly inhabits a solid form. No longer a ghost, he is trapped in a body of the young blacksmith who fled with The Rebel to challenge fate and build their own empire. He follows the ten feet hooded figure of Namo to his prison cell: clean, sterile, so unlike Angband and Utumno, who were wholly visceral and rowdy. The walls are smooth and dark, and apparently, soundproof.

 

He is told that this is a place of silent meditation and that he should take the chance to sleep,rest and reflect on his past. It’s not long before he rages at the locked door, bound to the floor. Time flows strangely in the Underworld; for beings of fire, it is an icy torment. Sauron is prone to anger fits. His mood swings are like volcanoes, then like ambers, then like fireflies, and then they go away completely. When he can’t find it in his heart to scream anymore, they start sending in supervisors. At first it is the Judge himself, taking shifts and turns with other important Maia Sauron doesn’t know the name of. They never leave him alone for long. They know the dangers of leaving someone alone too long.

 

Later, rather than sooner, the Age comes to an end. Unchained, he is brought before the throne of Mandos. The next Age will be a chance for him to prove himself in the service of Manwe and Varda.


	3. Fifth Age (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun in the Underworld. Also "My dear, my dear, it's not so dreadful here" by felixruveris is a piece you all should read.

And so it was, that at the outset of the Fifth Age, he is freed. The door of his cell opens and remains that way. The golden light shinning, first in a vertical pillar, than a rectangle, is more than his eyes can take. They uncuff him, but he is warned not to try and escape. His muscles feel like jelly, and spasms go through his trembling body. He has not been using his physical form much, and it shows: in the way he crouches and in the way he breaths.

The corridor leads upwards in a slow slope. They reach a ballroom, too fancy and well lit and colorful for a throne room of the Underworld. Everyone is dressed for the occasion, and Sauron  makes note of the strange fashion. Apparently Namo Mandos sometimes likes to shake things up a bit. Applause fill the air. A gentle noise, more polite than joyful. Countless dishes from countless races grace tables. He can almost see odors raising. Curtain and drapery on every greenstone wall. Velvets and polished woods. Shinny surfaces and mirrors. He has to close his eyes. It wouldn’t do to vomit right now.

He stands before Vaire the Weaver and many others, while the Judge circles him. Maia and other lesser spirits are watching. He is being inspected, but there is no malice coming from any of them, just patience and a shade of providence. “My dear, my dear, it’s not so dreadful here!” Someone shouts suddenly and Mandos laughs. Apparently it is a joke about Melkor’s stay which nobody bothers to explain.

He is presented with a wide cloth of soft intricate murals and sharp statements: his life, every good and bad deed. His beginning is painted in bright orange, his Fall is framed in black and red, his imprisonment is in stale, dark blue, and finally, his release, in a forgiving light pink. Vaire has outdone herself, he is told. Melkor only received a napkin.

He is allowed to circle around. It’s hard to talk to anybody, since they all bear masks. Voices sound distorted and soon enough, he in uneasy. _No matter what, keep your back strait_ , Mellor says. At one point, he asks how long this will take. Vaire replays, “As long as it has to.” The Melkor in his head curses and shouts. He has figured out what is to happen. In the end, after what seems like days,he faints, and falls into darkness, with ten different masks starring down at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have about seven chapters written, but every time I write a new one, I have to make changes to the previous ones. Sorry about the late update. but I wont post something unless I am certain I wont change it.


End file.
